That Room

The room with the wing chair and the skin lamp,

the velvet curtain covering an obscene canvas

that room with the smell of embalming and stale forgiveness,

that room, your hideaway

You're in that room,

with a pearl handled letter opener in your hand,

and no letters

You're in the room with a sound like subterranean clockwork

Your room, your haven

The room with the whispering library, beautiful souls trapped in pages

Your room with the rose carpet stain, the perfect likeness

Your room with the raven, the cat

You need sunlight and the wind that will forget your past

And I need you with me at last

You've been in that room with

your third eye closed, and

I've been waiting too long